


Life Imitates Art

by peachpety



Series: Autumn Drarry Drabbles [19]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Autumn Drarry Drabbles, Boys Kissing, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Jack-o'-lanterns, M/M, Pumpkin Carving Contest, Sassy Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27110179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachpety/pseuds/peachpety
Summary: Draco desperately wants to win the annual Hogwarts Pumpkin Carving Contest and ends up with his heart’s desire.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Autumn Drarry Drabbles [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956262
Comments: 20
Kudos: 172





	Life Imitates Art

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GallifreyisBurning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyisBurning/gifts).



> Day 19 of Autumn Drarry Drabble's y'all! This one ran away, m'dears, but it had to be done. The prompt is _Person A always wins the pumpkin carving contest every year. Person B is determined to beat them._ Inspired by gallifrey1sburning's fantastic Jack-o-lantern art [posted here!](https://gallifrey1sburning.tumblr.com/post/631461446943899648/so-a-couple-weeks-ago-i-asked-for-drarry-drawing) This is for you, lovely! Also for my sweet bff, lovelynirish who requested the prompt. BIG THANKS to the most wonderful person on the planet, VeelaWings for the brilliant beta and all the encouragement on this one! Couldn't have posted without you! Enjoy! xo peach
> 
>   
> 

The year of the first pumpkin carving contest at Hogwarts is a fact highly contested. Some claim it was initiated by Godric Gryffindor, deep into his spiced metheglin, hastily carving Salazar Slytherin’s likeness into a gourd out of spite. Some claim the Baron originated the competition to woo Helena Ravenclaw by presenting her with a garden of grinning Jack-o-lanterns. 

Regardless of its origin, the annual Halloween event was highly anticipated by Hogwarts students and teachers alike. Another way to pit the Houses against each other in the name of “good sportsmanship.”

So, of course, it became a highly competitive event.

There’s a row of glass cases lining both walls of an expanded corridor in Hogwarts that extends for nearly a half kilometer and has remained miraculously unscathed after the Battle. The cases house the winning Jack-o-lanterns of years past, kept fresh in preserving magic, each glowing from within by the winning House color. The six pumpkins from 1992 to 1997 all glow red.

A pumpkin — whole and uncarved — bathed in red, green, blue, and golden lights sits In Memorium in the space reserved for the winning pumpkin from 1998.

The empty case beside it is reserved for the 1999 winner.

Draco Malfoy visits the case every day since his 8th year term started, a wish held deep in his heart.

* * *

From the golden owl podium, Headmistress McGonagall announces, “Welcome, Hogwarts students to the Annual Pumpkin Carving Contest.” 

The Great Hall erupts into cheers, whistles, and a few contraband WWW whiz-poppers. Draco rolls his eyes at Filch trotting to apprehend the perpetrators from his assigned spot at the Slytherin table, arrayed with carving utensils and buckets.

“As most of you know,” McGonagall continues, “In year’s past, this tradition has pitted House against House and the Gryffindors have upheld quite a winning streak.” 

The Gryffindors yell, while Potter and Weasley bang their hands on the tabletop, rattling the utensils with their enthusiasm. Beside them, Hermione shakes her head, straightening her workspace.

“Not this year, Gryffs!” Pansy calls out from her spot next to Draco.

“Oh, we’re gonna knock you down to the bottom, Parkinson,” Weasely yells back.

“Don’t underestimate me, Weasley,” Pansy snarks. “I’ve been known to top from the bottom.”

Potter and Weasley howl and slap palms, Weasley clutching his chest and blowing Pansy a kiss. Draco tsks and directs his frown from Potter’s over-bright smile punctuated by a single dimple to the parchment on which he’s been doodling squiggly lines, not at all shaped like lightning bolts and sketches of pumpkin carvings with round spectacles and golden snitches.

McGonagall silences the uproar with a stern glare. “This year, however,” she says, “we are initiating a new rule.”

Draco lifts his eyes from his doodles, attention captured. At the Gryffindor table, Harry sits taller.

“To further inter-house unity,” McGonagall says, “Students from different houses will be paired for the competition.” A chorus of groans and protests echo off the walls. “I expect you all to set a good example for the younger students,” McGonagall says loudly. 

“Ooh,” Pansy murmurs from beside Draco. “I wonder with whom Potter is paired.”

“I could care less,” Draco says, sniffing. Across the Hall, Harry leans to murmur into Weasley’s ear and catches Draco looking. Draco quickly averts his eyes, and Pansy snorts.

McGonagall levitates a parchment, unrolling it with a flick of her wrist. “The Heads of Houses and I have spent quite a fair amount of time vetting this list, and the pairings are final. No exceptions."

One by one, students are paired off. Ginny and Luna squeal together and hug. Pansy skips to Weasley with glee, sitting in his lap with a cackle and setting his face aflame to match his hair. Theo trips over himself at his pairing with Hermione, his longtime crush. 

McGonagall says, “Harry Potter,” and a hush falls over the Hall. Draco’s heart stalls.

“And Draco Malfoy,” Harry says, dropping down onto the bench next to Draco. “I kinda like the sound of that.” His knee brushes against Draco’s under the desk, jumpstarting Draco’s heart.

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall laments, dropping the parchment on the desk in exasperation.

Harry folds his hands on the table and raises his eyebrows. “Yes, Minerva?”

McGonagall’s eyes narrow. 

Weasley pipes up, “I think, Headmistress, if you check your parchment there, you’ll see that Harry is indeed paired with the ferret, I mean, Malfoy, _ow!”_ He cringes and grabs Pansy’s pinching fingers. 

McGonagall peers at the parchment. “Merlin, help us all,” she sighs heavily, resigned. “Pairing accepted. Moving on, Seamus, you’re paired with…”

“What the fuck are you doing, Potter?” Draco hisses under this breath. 

“Saving your arse,” Harry murmurs. “And such a lovely arse, at that.”

Heat explodes up Draco’s neck, flaming his ears. “My arse is none of your business,” he sputters.

Harry hums. “Not yet,” he says so quietly Draco doubts he heard correctly. “Anyway,” he continues, “Seamus was to be your partner and if you recall his penchant for explosives, you should be thanking me.” He scoots closer, knee brushing Draco’s leg again, sending Draco’s heart skittering in his chest. “Are these Jack-o-lantern ideas?” He points at Draco’s doodles.

Draco’s heart lurches, and he quickly vanishes the parchment. “No.”

“Too bad, I liked the one with the glasses and the snitch.” Harry wiggles his eyebrows and grins.

“I’ve no idea what you mean,” Draco says, too riveted by the bloody dimple to be mortified. “But I do have some thoughts on how to dimple this pumpkin.” He cringes, the heat burning his ears expanding to his cheeks. “ _Carve!_ How to _carve_ this pumpkin.” He takes a deep breath and levels Harry with a glare. “I intend to win this year, Potter, so don’t fuck this up.”

“Students,” McGonagall intones joyously, “You have 3 hours. Your time starts now!”

Harry’s grin widens, and he hands Draco the knife. 

* * *

Their first spat evolves from Harry lecturing Draco on the proper way to cut the Jack-o-lantern’s cap, which he insists are “mere suggestions” on how to hold the knife. This ends with a trip to Madame Pince to mend Draco’s cut finger, Harry hovering nervously and biting his cuticles, green eyes wide with worry.

They lose thirty minutes in the Infirmary.

They are thoroughly reprimanded after a minor disagreement over which tool is the best to remove the pumpkin’s innards that quickly escalates into a food fight, covering them in pumpkin guts. Draco bites back a smile at the seeds dangling from Harry’s glasses.

Draco thinks the docking of thirty minutes off their time is excessive.

They finally reach an agreement to carve a Quidditch seekers game in the damn pumpkin after much deliberation. Draco schools Harry, _at length,_ on the 1967 amendments to the official Hogwarts Pumpkin Carving Contest rule book limiting the use of magic to carve pumpkins — to be informed that they only have 5 minutes in which to do the actual carving.

Draco has a panic attack; Harry performs some quick slicing...

And the contest is over.

* * *

“ _Merlin’s saggy ball sack,”_ Draco groans. “This is all your fault, Potter! What even did you carve?” He drops his head into his hands. “No, don’t show me. I don’t want to know.”

“It’ll be fine!” Harry says, bouncing his knee. “I’m glad you're lucid again, though.”

“Oh, what do you know?”

“I know,” Harry says, leaning over and removing a pumpkin seed from Draco’s fringe, “that it will be fine.” He smiles, the dimple pops, and Draco’s heart palpitates. He slumps. He can’t even be appropriately peeved. Damn the power of the dimple. 

“We have our winners!” McGonagall sweeps into the Great Room, parchment in hand. “In third place is Pansy Parkinson and Ronald Weasley with a pair of pumpkins.” The duo whoop and high five. Ron picks up a pumpkin carved with a frowning, grumpy ferret face. Draco frowns. 

“Look!” Ron cries out. “Life imitates art!”

“And Harry, too!” Pansy holds up her more massive pumpkin carved with round glasses and a lightning scar.

“That’s so simple for third place!” Seamus complains, and Draco silently agrees. Hope nestles in his gut. He and Harry just might have a chance.

“Says the lad with the exploded pumpkin on his face,” Pansy retorts.

“In second place,” McGonagall says, “is Hermione Granger and Theo Nott for their beautiful rendition of Hogwarts!” 

Hermione beams and kisses a blushing Theo on the cheek, levitating their perfectly carved pumpkin off the table. Draco’s heart sinks. 

“Fuck, that’s amazing,” Harry says, eyes wide.

“More amazing than ours?” Draco asks sharply, fearing he already knows the answer. 

“Shhh. The announcement for first place.”

“And in first place,” McGonagall swishes her wand, and a drum roll fills the room, “Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley!” 

Ginny whoops and stands on the bench, holding their first place pumpkin overhead. 

“Oh, we won!” Luna says, clapping. 

“What even is it?” Ron says, squinting. “Two blokes… yelling?”

“It’s Harry and Draco fighting!” Ginny says. She hops off the bench and presents the pumpkin to Harry and Draco with a dramatic flourish of her hands. The carving displays Draco with his mouth open, yelling and pointing at Harry, sitting with his face scrunched and arms crossed. Harry bursts out laughing.

Draco presses his mouth closed, embarrassment warming his face. “It’s not funny!”

“It’s pretty funny,” Harry says, wiping his eyes. 

“Ooh, wait, there’s more!” Luna sets the inside of the Jack-o-lantern aglow and places the carved cap into place. Ginny holds up a piece of parchment. The wavering shadow shows two boys kissing, arms wrapped around each other. 

“And now they kiss,” Ginny says proudly. 

Ron and Pansy pick up their pumpkins and smoosh them together, ferret face to Harry face. 

Draco blinks, hardly breathing. “They what now?”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this in the Hall of Pumpkins!” Luna beams.

Draco’s eyes go wide.

This pumpkin, _this thing,_ with the image of he and Harry fighting and _kissing,_ for fuck’s sake, will be on display for all to witness. For eternity. Draco opens and closes his mouth, unable to form words because he’s pretty sure his brain is now oozing out of his ears. 

“We do have an honorable mention,” McGonagall offers, lips pursed in an approximation of a smile. “Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter!”

“I told you I liked the sound of that,” Harry says, his smile slanting crooked as he turns their pumpkin to face Draco.

Carved into the orange flesh are words forming a question.

“Wicked,” Ron says, grinning. 

Draco looks around at the expectant faces crowded around the table, heartbeat galloping, heat swelling through his veins. He settles his eyes on Harry. 

“I mean, we need to make the first place Jack-o-lantern honest.” Harry bites his lip, green eyes questioning, and hopeful. 

Draco’s heart pulses out a massive beat, and he throws his arms around Harry’s neck. “Yes,” he says breathlessly. “Yes, I’ll date you.”

Cheers and yells fade into the background of their kiss, life imitating art.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me indulgently lurking on [tumblr](http://peachpety.tumblr.com/).


End file.
